


The Godfather

by Hagzissa



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Coffee, Dean is a cute bisexual dork, Fluff, French Kissing, Gentle Sex, Hand Jobs, Humor, Kissing, M/M, Mary Lives, Nervousness, Smut, dadstiel, loads of fluff, mechanic!Dean, no hate on Lisa, teacher!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2015-10-06
Packaged: 2018-04-22 15:04:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4839890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hagzissa/pseuds/Hagzissa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is doing Lisa a favor. One thing leads to another and suddenly he's got Ben's teacher in his apartment and he's got no idea how to make the coffee machine work.<br/>Fluff and eventually smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nina my Destiel hell pal](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Nina+my+Destiel+hell+pal).



> If you know me in real life, please close your browser right at this instant! Thanks.

"See you this evening," Cas said, upon opening the door.  
Dean couldn't resist. He plunged forward to kiss Cas for one last time. The stairway was cool and Dean was only in boxers, but he didn't notice. Cas was kissing him back, equally reluctant to part.  
They didn't notice they were, in fact, not alone, until a young female voice called: "Dad?!"  
They broke apart. On the stairs just above them stood Ben holding hands with a girl his age, with long blond hair and startingly familiar blue eyes...  
"Claire? What are doing here?"  
"I was going to ask you the same."  
"Okay, let's talk about this after school," Cas said.  
He stepped on the stairs, but not before giving Dean a little kiss on the cheek.

* * *

 

_24 hours earlier_

Dean was woken by some ghastly racket coming from the flat above. He was just about to turn around to grab a few more hours, when his eyes fell on the alarm clock on his bedside table.

“Fuck!”

He threw off his blanket and staggered through the room, picking up clothes he had mindlessly dropped the night before. It had been a long and disappointing night and apparently he had forgotten to set his alarm clock. He had never thought that one day he’d be thankful for Ash playing his music too loudly.

He grabbed his keys and headed out of the apartment. His boss, Bobby, liked him, but he’d rather not test his nerves by turning up late.

He was half-way down the stairs when someone called his name.

It was Lisa, his neighbor and, yes, high school sweetheart.

“Hey, can I ask you for a favor?” she asked from above.

She hurried downstairs, dressed in morning gown and slippers.

Dean sighed. “What is it?”

“I totally forgot about parents’ evening. I’m heading out to Toledo tonight for a yoga workshop, so, do you think you could go?”

“To a parents’ evening? Isn’t that, like, a parents only thing?”

“Just tell them you’re Ben’s godfather, it’ll be fine.”

“Uh…”

“Thanks, Dean, you’re a star,” she said and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Gotta go pack!”

“What about Ben?” Dean asked.

“Oh, he’s sixteen, he can manage one night without me,” she replied. “I’ll text you the details!”

Okay, now he was _really_ running late.

He half-walked, half-ran down the street. He was lucky that the garage was close by and even luckier that there was a coffee shop right on the way.

He didn’t mind doing Lisa a favor, she’d had helped him out a dozen times, and he adored her kid, but going to a parents’ evening, really? He’d thought he’d never have to be on school grounds again. When school had been over, he’d fucking celebrated. He’d always had learning difficulties and with his, say, special interests he he’d been a target for bullying as well. He’d never been like his baby brother that got on with everyone on top of having the best grades. But he was going to do it. Of course he was.

He was so lost in thought that he did not see the man coming right out of the coffee shop and promptly crashed into him.

The man lost the grip on his paper cup. It soared through the air and then coffee was everywhere. It soaked through Dean’s t-shirt, burning hot on his skin, and left a big stain on the man’s lilac sweater.

“Jeez, I’m so sorry,” Dean said, running his hands through his short hair.

The last thing he needed right now was someone shouting at him. To his surprise, however, the man didn’t look angry, just a little shocked.

He seemed to be in his forties, with messy dark hair and horn-rimmed glasses that would have made every hipster go green with envy. Ten years ago this wouldn’t have been Dean’s type. He had liked them young and buff, well, a bit like himself back then. Since then he’d changed and with him his taste. So now he also liked nerdy guys with weird, coffee-soaked sweaters. 

“It’s okay,” the man said in a pleasant rumble, “I guess it’s bad karma. I promised Hannah to drink less caffeine and here I am getting a vanilla latte.”

“Sorry about your sweater,” Dean apologized again.

“My daughter hated this sweater anyways,” the man replied, “She said it makes me look old.”

“You look great,” Dean blurted out. “I mean the sweater,” he corrected himself, “ _Great_ look.”

“Thank you.”

“Can I get you a new coffee?” Dean asked.

“Thanks, I’ve got to rush. Can’t be late for work,” the man said. “Have a nice day.”

“Yeah, you too,” Dean said to himself, as he watched the man leave.

 

* * *

 

His work day hadn’t exactly been the most pleasant. Jo had called in sick, which had meant a lot of extra work for him. When he came home he took an extra-long shower. Then he remembered his promise to Lisa. He sighed. He had been looking forward to watch reruns of _Doctor Sexy_.

There were still two hours left until he had to meet Ben’s teacher. He might as well go out for dinner. He decided to ask Ben whether he wanted to come with him, since his mom wasn’t home.

He put on his best suit, which was easy to pick, since it was the only one he owned. He had worn it to Sam’s graduation and his mother’s birthday party in June. He felt a little uncomfortable. He wasn’t one for dressing up much. He was more of a jeans and t-shirt guy and so far that had worked out fine. Tonight wasn’t about him, though, and he didn’t want to make a bad impression.

 

* * *

 

“What d’you say, you up for pizza? I’m buying,” Dean asked Ben.

“Actually, I’m having someone over in a minute,” Ben said. “And what are you wearing?” he added with a laugh.

“I’m going to that parent-teacher thing of yours, remember. I’m sticking my neck out for you!”

He recalled his hellish math classes with Mr. Crowley. He sincerely hoped Ben had nicer teachers.

“Don’t freak out, it’s just Mr. Novak. He’s alright.”

“I hope so. And what do you mean, what am I wearing? You’re one to talk. Since when do you know how to button up your shirts?”

Ben’s cheeks turned red.

“So you’ve got a girl coming over?” Dean guessed. “I mean, you were into girls, right?”

 “-Yes, but we’re just friends okay?” Ben said firmly. “Don’t tell mom, though,” he added quickly.

“I won’t, but stay safe, okay, kid?”

* * *

 

The school building hadn’t changed much since he had graduated. He parked his Impala close to the entrance. He followed the signs, leading him to room 104.

He passed the janitor’s closet remembering how he had sneaked in there with Lisa a couple times for a make-out session.

There were chairs placed outside of room 104 on the corridor and a sign that read _Please wait outside_. So Dean sat down, a little nervous. Was he supposed to ask questions?

He let his eyes wander around. Hadn’t there been a photo of Sam’s soccer team in the glass cabinet over there? And his locker had been just around the corner. He remembered the first love letter he had gotten, forced through the door, by Aaron, who had been furiously blushing when Dean caught him in the act. Dean smiled. It hadn’t been _all_ bad.

The door opened and a mother left the room with a sigh.

“You can go in,” she said to Dean, sounding tired.

Dean nodded, stood up and went inside.

“Good evening,” a familiar voice said.

Dean stopped. He couldn’t believe his own eyes. Behind the desk, looking down on a sheet of paper, sat the very same guy he had showered in coffee that morning.

“Um, hi,” Dean said, stepping toward the desk tentatively.

The teacher looked up and his face lit up in recognition.

“Life is full of surprises,” he said jovially. “Hello, again.”

 “So, you were able to put something else on,” Dean said, pointing at the man’s sweater, not knowing what else to say.

It was a blue one this time. In the whiteness of the ceiling lights he could see that it was matching the teacher’s eyes. They were a nice contrast to the dark hair, which Dean realized now, was not in fact black, but a dark shade of brown.

“Yes, fortunately,” Mr. Novak said.

Dean had already forgotten what he had said.

“But, please, sit down, Mr. Braeden.”

The teacher gestured toward the chair opposite him and Dean obeyed.

“Actually, I’m the godfather,” he started, “I mean I’m Ben’s godfather, not like, in the movie.” This was a new situation for him and Mr. Novak having his pretty eyes fixed on him wasn’t really helping. “What I’m saying is, I’m Dean. Dean Winchester. Ben’s mother sends me.”

“Alright, Mr. Winchester it is then,” Mr. Novak said. “So, as you may know, Benjamin is doing pretty well, overall. Let’s see…”

 He took out a few sheets of paper from a folder, rearranged his glasses and then leant back in his chair to read.

“He’s got a B- in math, a C in chemistry and biology, B in physics, B in English… he’s got an A in P.E..”

“That sounds pretty solid to me,” Dean said.

He didn’t talk much about his grades with Ben, but he had known that he was doing okay. “And then there’s my class, history,” Mr. Novak continued. “Right now I’d say C-, maybe a C, but Benjamin definitely has much more potential. I wish he’d participate more. When he’s participating it’s always good input. I sometimes feel like he’s feigning disinterest to seem cool, you know. I get that when you’re sixteen being a history nerd isn’t exactly _in_. It’s just important that he doesn’t let other people’s opinion of him get in the way.”

Mr. Novak sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. He looked a bit tired, Dean thought.

“But that’s probably the universal teenage experience, so…”

He spaced out for a moment and then seemed to realize that Dean was still there.

“Anyway, I think he should be fine with the SATs coming up next year,” he continued and took a look at his notes, “Miss Raphael, his English teacher tells me that he’s writing excellent essays. She, too, criticizes his lack of participation. He never volunteers to read…”

“So… what do we do about it?” Dean asked.

“I’m sure he will find his way, eventually,” Mr. Novak said thoughtfully. “What he needs is a role model…”

“Well, don’t look at me. I’m just a mechanic. My alphabet started with a D,” Dean replied.

“I don’t necessarily mean an Ivy League Alumni, just someone who is comfortable in their own skin and not ashamed for being themselves.”

He looked at Dean and Dean suddenly wasn’t so sure whether he _was_ comfortable in his own skin. Thankfully, the teacher dropped the topic and started to talk about Ben’s achievements a little bit more in depth.

Dean found out that he quite liked the teacher’s voice. It was calm and deep. He imagined what Mr. Novak must be like in class. Probably quite a distraction. Yes, he could imagine him talking about something, the Civil War, the Great Depression, whatever, and he would hang on his lips, (well, not literally - not that he would’ve minded -) and he wouldn’t catch a single word.

So when Mr. Novak said “If you don’t have any more questions, I’d say that’d be it,” he was woken up from his fantasies.

“It’s been a long day,” Mr. Novak said, while gathering up his stuff.

“Without your morning coffee,” Dean added with a weak smile.

“True.”

“About that: that was terribly clumsy of me, I was in such a hurry and-”

Mr. Novak switched off the lights.

“You don’t have to apologize, it was an accident. If you still feel guilty, you can buy me a coffee the next time our paths cross.”

“Alright,” Dean said, as they left the building together.

It was mid-September, so it had already become dark. He nodded toward the teacher and then walked to his car. He would so be there in front of the coffee shop every morning from now on.

He started his car and drove toward the gate. There he saw Mr. Novak, typing on his phone. He felt suddenly reckless. What had he to lose, really? He drove up to him, stopped and wound down the window.

“Can I invite you for a coffee _now_?”

“You know what?” Mr. Novak replied, “I’d love that.”

 

They drove in silence, emotions fighting in Dean. On one hand he was giddy and had a hard time hiding a grin that was trying to creep on his face. On the other hand he was afraid. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to achieve by asking the teacher out for a coffee. He had no idea whether he was single. Hadn’t he mentioned a Hannah? And a daughter? So was there even a chance he was interested in men, well, and him in particular?

He wasn’t used to this anymore. His sex-life was reduced to bar hook ups and that was usually quite straight forward. Maybe it was because he was getting older, but he was becoming tired of one-night stands. He hated writing down phones numbers he knew he would never call. He hated the pretentiousness of it all. It was possible that it showed because the night before he hadn’t been lucky.

 

Dean switched on the radio to stop overthinking. There was a pop song from the nineties on. Mr. Novak chuckled.

“Believe it or not, but _this_ was my wedding song,” he said.

 “Really, this?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“So, you’re married then,” Dean asked.

“ _Was_ married. Didn’t work out in the end, but I’ve got a beautiful, clever sixteen-year-old daughter, so I’m not complaining, really. What about you?”

“No, I don’t have any kids. My brother and his girlfriend are having a baby soon, though,” he replied. “And I’m currently single,” he added in a rush.

They stopped in front of the coffee shop. All lights were out.

“Oh, I forgot, it’s closed. Course. It’s, what, nine?” Dean said, embarrassed.

Why hadn’t he thought of that? The other man looked on his phone.

“Ten to nine.”

“We… could go to my place,” Dean suggested, “My family got me this pad machine and I haven’t found out how to make it work yet, but I think I can figure it out somehow.”

What was he doing? This was Ben’s teacher! “I live just across the street – see that red apartment building over there?”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Dean asked in disbelief.

“Yes, let’s go.”

Dean parked his car and they exited.

He prayed that he hadn’t left any worn underwear lying around. He wasn’t sure what the teacher would say about his all male nude calendar, either. Well, maybe that would clear up some questions on the teacher’s side.

 

He opened up the door to his apartment and they stepped inside. He took of his shoes and his suit jacket and unbuttoned the top button on his shirt. He waited for Mr. Novak to take off his shoes as well, then he led them past his open bedroom door to the tiny kitchen.

“Okay, so let’s figure out how this works,” he said.

 “Didn’t you say you were a mechanic?” Mr. Novak said in amusement.

“Yeah, but I fix up cars not stuff like this.”

He pressed the start button but nothing happened. He could feel the other man behind him, peering over his shoulder. The proximity made him nervous.

“I think you have to plug it in, Dean.”

“Oh, yeah,” he said.

“Is that okay?”

“What?”

“That I call you Dean?”

“Yeah sure. What’s your name?” he asked, pressing the button afresh.

He turned around to face him. He was standing really close.

“Cas. Castiel,” he answered. “And don’t ask. Religious family.”

He smiled a gorgeous smile. Behind Dean the machine did some really concerning noised before shutting off completely.

 “Sorry, I’m useless,” Dean said.

“Aw, don’t say that,” Cas said playfully. “I’m sure you’re great at lots of other things.”

“You’re a teacher, you have to say that,” he joked back.

He did feel better though. He looked around; searching for something else he might offer to Cas.

 “I’ve got orange juice, uh, milk or-” He looked inside a cupboard. “Whiskey? Do you drink that sort of thing?”

“You mean because I drink vanilla lattes?”

“Hey, I’m not judging,” Dean said, taking out two glasses.

“Yeah, I drink whiskey, but only on special occasions.”

He winked at Dean and Dean’s legs might have gotten slightly wobbly.

 

* * *

 

After their third whiskey, Cas took off his sweater. Dean watched him pull it over his head. The plain white shirt he was wearing underneath came out of his pants, allowing Dean a glimpse on his hipbones.

“It’s hot in here, isn’t it?” Cas asked.

“Yeah, or maybe that’s just you,” Dean thought out loud.

“Oh, now, you’re making fun of me.”

“No! No, I genuinely think you’re good-looking.”

“Well, since you’ve got a sexy men calendar over there, I believe you,” Cas said.

So he had noticed, then.

“No shame in admiring a well-built man,” Dean said slowly.

“Absolutely not,” Cas replied, returning Dean’s look steadily.

Did that mean what he thought it meant?

 “You’re living alone with your daughter, then?” Dean asked, feeling encouraged by Cas’ words.

“We’re sharing a house with my sister, Hannah.”

So Hannah was his sister and not his girlfriend.

“Right after the divorce, I wasn’t really looking for something new. I told myself not to rush things and I had a little daughter to look out for. Then it’s the job, and then suddenly you’re 41 and still solo.”

“I think I get what you mean,” Dean said.

In the past couple years, there had been a few attempts at dating – Cassie, the reporter; Anna, who helped out at the garage from time to time, and Benny. None of it had lasted long – it was not that he wasn’t interested in a romantic relationship, hell no. Charlie from next door was already making fun of him. They’d been hitting up gay bars together for a while, but now that she had Dorothy that became less frequent.

“What kind of coffee do _you_ drink?” Cas asked.

“Usually just plain coffee,” Dean said with a shrug, “I just need some caffeine in the morning.”

“You’re really missing out on something,” Cas said.

He sat opposite of Dean at the tiny kitchen table, with the fridge right behind him. There was not much space between them, significantly less then there had been in the classroom. Cas had his legs stretched out; there were almost touching Dean’s.

“Tomorrow you’re having a vanilla latte or at least a cappuccino.”

“But-”

“No buts, I’ll be there, making sure you’ll have it.”

“Is that a promise?” Dean asked.

“Yeah,” Cas raised an eyebrow, as if to challenge him.

They eyed each other attentively as if trying to guess what the other was thinking.

“I think that’s my cue,” Cas said then with a sigh and spell was broken.

He got up. Dean followed. _No_ , he thought, _no, I don’t want him to leave just now!_ Cas gathered up his sweater and bag and went toward the door. Dean was right behind him, thinking about what he could say to make Cas stay a bit longer. In the small hall, Cas stooped to tie up his shoes. When he got up he was only inches away from Dean.

“Thank you for the drink,” he said. “And I’ll see you tomorrow for coffee. A little bit earlier than today?”

“Yeah, sure,” Dean replied, disappointed. “Um, do you know how to get home? It’s late so the busses-”

“I can walk from here,” Cas said, “Unless…”

He leant forward and before Dean knew what was happening to him, he had a pair of lips pressed against his. Completely caught by surprise he didn’t move. Cas lips were warm and soft and gone too soon.

Cas eyes were searching him, widened behind his glasses with a mixture of fear and hope.

Dean knew that he was supposed to say something, give Cas a signal, to just say _something_.

“Um,” he made, “Um, yes.”

“Yes?” repeated Cas uncertain.

 _Damn it_ , Dean thought, and put his lips back on Cas’. The teacher made a surprised noise, but didn’t pull back. He dropped his sweater and bag mindlessly to the floor and kissed Dean back. The slow rhythm of their lips quickly intensified.

Craving proximity he let Cas pull him closer by the waist. He could feel Cas’ strong hands through the thin fabric of his shirt. Cas’ lips were hot on his, eager and persistent. Dean was kissing back with equal enthusiasm. Dean was having a hard time breathing with their faces pressed together and Cas so close. There was just him, his smell, so fucking amazing, and of course the taste; the taste of whiskey and a sweet sweet promise.

They broke apart to breathe. Dean leant back against the apartment door and inhaled sharply. His hand wandered to his lips which were swollen already. He exchanged a look with Cas. His glasses had gotten out of place and his hair was a mess. A sheepish grin crept onto Cas’ face and before they knew what they were doing, they were laughing – maybe laughing with relief.

A smile stayed on Cas’ face when he stepped forward and cupped Dean’s face with one hand to kiss him again, gently this time. Their noses were rubbing together as Cas changed the angle to get a better access to Dean’s mouth. Dean opened it ever so slightly. Cas’ tongue ventured timidly past his lips and soon they were lazily making out.

Dean’s hands were buried in Cas’ soft hair, while Cas’ timidly explored his body. They were wandering up and down his upper body, finally tugging at the hem of his shirt, pulling it out of his dress pants. His fingers slid underneath, caressing the skin.

Cas lips left his just to find their way to his neck, right below his earlobe. There was something stirring in Dean’s abdomen and it wasn’t just butterflies. Making out was one thing, but Cas trailing kisses down his neck like this… It was turning him on tremendously. Dean could feel his dick rising, his boxer briefs becoming tight. Seeking friction, he pulled Cas closer. He discovered that the other man was sporting a boner as well. When he experimentally thrust his hips forward, Cas’ stopped his work on Dean’s collarbone to let out a small moan. Encouraged, Dean cupped Cas’ ass through his pants, pressing their crotches together. Soon enough they were grinding against each other, the contact delicious but not nearly enough.

“Bedroom?” Dean asked, panting slightly.

“Bedroom,” Cas agreed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first attempt at m/m smut, so enjoy.

Dean took Cas’ hand and pulled him inside his bedroom. He shut the door with a bang. Then he impatiently guided Cas to the bed, stumbling against a chair in the semi-darkness of the room. He hadn’t bothered with turning the lights on. All that he could think of was Cas. Everything was hot. He pushed Cas onto the bed and immediately followed. In no time he had found the teacher’s lips again.

Lying flush against each other, they kissed. The close physical contact only enhanced Dean’s arousal. He snaked a leg over Cas to bring them even closer together. He ground into him, pleasure and need mixing.

Rolling around, Dean found himself straddling Cas. He slowly started to work on the buttons of Cas’ shirt. He enjoyed the obvious lust in Cas’ eyes, as he continued to bring their dicks together. Once he had opened the shirt, he bowed down to kiss a trail down from his collarbone to his nipples.

“This is good,” Cas panted after a while.

Dean hummed in agreement against Cas’ chest.

“It would be even better if we took our pants off,” Cas added.

  
Dean couldn’t agree more. He straightened up and took off his shirt first. Cas reached for the switch on his bedside lamp. Dean shot him a questioning look.

“What?” Cas laughed, his eyes roaming over his body. “I want to see this.”

Dean hopped off the bed to strip off his dress pants, while Cas did the same on the bed. Just in boxers, he eagerly rejoined him on the sheets. Cas was wearing grey briefs which could barely contain him. A dark spot indicated that we was already leaking precome. He leant down to find Cas’ mouth again. Cas pulled him down by his head with one hand to deepen the kiss. His other hand snaked his way to Dean’s underwear, playing with the elastic band.

“You want to see this, too?” Dean asked playfully, interrupting their wet kiss.

Cas nodded with enthusiasm.

Dean helped him pull off his boxer briefs, the fabric grazing over his erection. Now without restraint, it curved up to his stomach, an angry red. Cas’ glasses had gradually fogged up with their sweating and body heat, but now they went completely blank. He took them off with a huff.  
“What, can’t handle the view?” Dean asked.

Cas rolled his eyes.

“Wait, can you see anything without them on?” Dean wanted to know.

“I think I’d be able to see that... _thing_ from a mile afar,” he said, gesturing towards Dean’s dick.  
Dean grinned and set to work on Cas’ briefs.

“Well, you're one to talk, Mr. Empire State Building.”

  
Dean lowered himself on Cas. The friction was indeed far better with nothing between them. Cas’ hands were on his back all the way, kneading the flesh. Dean wanted to touch their dicks so badly, but he wasn’t sure whether that was okay with Cas.

Soon, however, Cas guided one of his hands between their joined legs. His fingers enclosed Cas’ throbbing member. It was hot and thick in his hand, precome smeared all over the head. Cas’ breath hitched at the touch, immediately responding to it. Dean was excited that simply holding it like this could provoke such a reaction from him. Cas let go of his hand and Dean felt encouraged that Cas trusted him to bring him pleasure. Experimentally he gave his dick a tug. Cas gasped.

He continued, starting off slowly, but eventually increasing the pace. Soon Cas was thrusting up in his hand, his fingers clawing at the sheets.

  
Dean himself couldn’t stand it much longer. How long had they been going at it now? He couldn’t tell; it didn’t matter. All he knew was that he wanted to see Cas come, wanted to know what his face would look like when he did. His own member was nearly forgotten, humping against Cas somewhere.

He could tell Cas was close, by the way he panted, the way he moved - he closed his eyes, he thrust upward and then he came, all over Dean’s hand in big white spurts, covering their stomachs with a loud moan.

Dean’s climax followed suite in one moment of ecstasy, one moment of firework.

Recovering from their height, Dean placed a sloppy kiss on Cas’ lips and collapsed next to him on the mattress.

“Wow,” Cas mouthed after a while of regaining air.

“Good ‘wow’?”

“Definitely good ‘wow’!”

After cleaning up, they lay snuggled against each other on the bed. Dean had tossed a blanket over them and it was warm and cozy. Dean couldn’t believe that he had not known Cas this very morning. Sure, he didn’t know much about him even now, but there was this feeling of familiarity.

 

* * *

 

Cas smelled like sex and just so so good. His arms were around him, holding him close. Cas was placing butterfly kisses on his forehead, his eyelids, his nose. His mind was drifting, all hazy. They were lying about just like that for what felt like ages; Cas’ heartbeat in his ear.

The teacher let his hands wander over his back, caressing the skin, drawing small circles here and there. One found his way down to the small of Dean’s back. It rested there, almost tentatively. Eventually, it travelled down further, index finger down the cleft of his ass agonizingly slow. It stopped right above his hole, just lying there. It was no use, Dean’s dick took the hint. In no time it stood proud again, hot and hard against Cas’ thigh. A fact that didn’t go unnoticed.

“Would you like to go further?” Cas asked, shyly, his hand moving away from Dean’s posterior.

“I- um, yes, I guess,” Dean replied.

Jerking off with each other was one thing, full blown butt sex was another.  
“So, how d’you want to do it?” Cas asked. “I don't mind either way,” he added quickly.

“You can- you could...”

Bar hook ups were easier. So much easier. You knew what you were getting into.

“Do me.”

“Okay.”  
“Yeah?”  
“Yeah.”  
“So, you got any condoms and lube? I would’ve brought some, but I usually don’t sleep with my students’ parents,” Cas joked and the awkwardness was gone.

“Well, since I’m not a parent-” Dean started, “oh, forget it, it’s in the nightstand.”  
He got up and fetched both, enthusiastically pressing both in Cas’ hands. He lied down on his back before Cas.

“I should mention that I haven’t done this for a while,” Cas said a little unsure.

“We don’t have to do this,” Dean said. “What we did before was amazing and I don-”  
“Shh,” Cas interrupted him, “I want to.”

“Okay,” Dean replied. “Just relax.”

“That should be my line,” Cas said weakly.

“I’m as relaxed as can be, just go ahead,” Dean reassured him.

He spread his legs open, knees bent, so Cas had better access to his hole. Cas opened the lube and squirted some of it into his hand. He coated the fingers of his right hand, which eventually found his way back to Dean’s ass. His left hand was on Dean’s thigh, massaging the flesh. He started circling Dean’s hole with one finger. Dean shuddered, both because the lube was cool and because of excitement. That one orgasm had been great, he could only imagine how great this was going to be.

Cas kept eye-contact with him, squinting them in an adorable way in an attempt to see him better, and Dean was happy to see his face relax. In fact, he could see a mischievous sparkle in his eyes, while he kept teasing his hole.

“Come on,” Dean said impatiently, surprised at how whiny it sounded.

Cas chuckled, kissed his knee and then gently pushed past the rim. It was uncomfortable at first - Cas was not the only one who hadn’t done this in a while - but it was bearable, and Cas was very careful.

 

He worked him thoroughly and Dean had to suppress the urge to say “Come on!” again. His dick was almost throbbing when Cas had three fingers inside of him. It felt good, though, now that he’d loosened up. Cas had expert fingers. He would scissor them, curl them upward, and found his prostrate real quick. It was making Dean crazy. He couldn’t comprehend how Cas knew how to work him so well. He was hitting that spot perfectly, over and over again.  
Dean couldn’t quite believe that this was not something Cas did regularly. Maybe he was practicing on his own. The thought of Cas fucking down on his own fingers - he had said he didn’t mind either way, after all - was almost too much. He knew that if he touched himself right now, he wouldn’t be able to hold it. He wanted to savor this to the end, however, and with a great effort, he kept his hands to himself.

“Shit, I'm ready,” he managed to bring out between clenched teeth.

Cas apparently thought the same. He pulled his fingers out, leaving Dean’s hole clenching around nothing.

Cas stroked himself to full hardness. His face lit up with pleasure, as he touched himself. This was a view Dean could get used to, he told himself. But Cas remembered what they had set out to do and stopped. He picked up the condom and held it close to his face. He struggled to open the wrapper for a second, then he carefully put it on. He picked up the lube for a second time and coated his dick generously.

He lined up with Dean and then slowly pushed in, inch by inch, allowing Dean to get used to the feeling. Dean held his breath until Cas finally bottomed out.

Cas inhaled deeply before starting to move. He began with slow, circular thrusts, in an effort to not hurt Dean in any way. Dean wanted to tell him to stop worrying, that he could take it, that, hell, he _wanted_ to take it. He kept his mouth shut, however. Them, together, in bed was more than he could’ve hoped for. They were taking a big step and really, he could understand that Cas wanted to take his time with this. There was no rush, they had the whole night. Except, there was his dick, aching for release. But more than anything, he wanted to see Cas come for a second time.

By the look of it, he wouldn’t have to wait long for that.

Cas was gathering speed. Each thrust was deeper than the one before.

He was finally letting go, relaxing completely and let his body do the work. Dean tried to help him, the best he could; meeting his thrusts, pushing his own hips forward a little, his ass clenching around Cas, making him groan. The grip of his fingers became firmer.

It was so much. Cas inside of him, filling him up so good; his thumbs pressing into the skin above his hipbones, maybe there were going to be bruises; the sight of him, sweat glistening on his forehead, his hair a mess, his pretty mouth slightly open....

“Dean,” Cas panted.

“Cas.”  
“Dean, you can...” It was obvious that Cas was having trouble forming a sentence. “Touch yourself. Wanna see you.”

Dean followed that invitation quickly, squeezing his member in time with Cas’ thrusts.  
It was good. So good - and he was close. There was just one thing; the way Cas had been fingering him, he wanted that feeling again, when he had hit his sweet spot so good, so damn good, he needed that. He touched Cas’ arm.

“Turn around, maybe?” he asked.

Cas replied with a nod. He leant down and then rolled them over. Now Cas was on his back, his head resting on Dean’s pillow. Dean used the opportunity to kiss him, before straightening up. This was a whole new sensation. He started shifting his hips, continuing where they had stopped. He leant back a little to change the angle and there it was.  
He was going faster and faster, his hand flying over his cock; from the look on his face he could tell that Cas was enjoying this, too. None of them tried to stiffle their moans. The bed was now moving underneath them. Could they be heard? Ash should be deaf by now the way he was playing his music and Charlie, well, she’d live. But he wasn’t really worrying about that now. He was having sex with this beautiful stranger, with this Cas, this amazing  _jesusrightthere_.  
He came all over Cas’ abdomen.

His muscles tightened around Cas and he could feel him come, too.

 

* * *

 

“I’m glad I'm nearsighted,” Cas said.

“Yeah? Why’s that?” Dean wanted to know.

“Because that way I can see your pretty face,” he said, and Dean, despite all the intimate things they had done that night, started to blush.

They were lying in bed and the alarm clock had rung, but they couldn’t be bothered to get up.

“Shall we go have coffee?” Cas asked.

“Uh-hu.”  
“But, no coffee shower this time, I don’t have anything to change with me.”

“Okay,” Dean said, just smiling.

They still didn’t get up.

“I’ve gotta go, I can't be late for school,” Cas said after another five minutes.

“I’ll write you an excuse,” Dean said.

“Dean, I’m the teacher.”

 

When they had finally gotten out of bed and Cas had dressed, Dean led him to the door.  
“See you tonight,” Cas said, upon opening the door.

Dean couldn't resist. He plunged forward to kiss Cas for one last time. Cas was kissing him back, equally reluctant to part. The stairway was cool and Dean was only in boxers, but he didn’t notice. He also didn’t notice that the were, in fact, not alone, until a young female voice called: "Dad?!"

They broke apart. On the stairs just above them stood Ben holding hands with a girl his age, with long blond hair and startlingly familiar blue eyes….

“Claire? What are _you_ doing here?”

“I was going to ask you the same.”

“Okay, let’s talk about this after school,” Cas said.

He stepped on the stairs, but not before giving Dean a little kiss on the cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make my day and write a comment :)


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